


Poor Little Rich Girl

by kethni



Series: 5 AUs Kent and Selina Were Friends with Benefits [3]
Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Friends With Benefits, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-05-17 09:45:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14829965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: He expected her to yell.He expected her to scream.He thought she might slap him.He thought she might throw a punch.He didn’t expect her to leap at him, cursing like a sailor, and fists flying.





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn’t the first time he had to pick up a rich little girl from some gauche mistake and ferry her home before daddy found out. It was a first for this _particular_ Daddy’s Girl, but it was also the first time he’d met her.

He expected her to yell.

He expected her to scream.

He thought she might slap him.

He thought she might throw a punch.

He didn’t expect her to leap at him, cursing like a sailor, and fists flying.

Nonetheless, he caught her quite easily, hoisted her onto his shoulder, and carried her outside. The boy watched, wide-eyed, neither helping nor hindering.

‘Put me down! Put me down right fucking now!’ she demanded, squirming and kicking.

‘Watch your head, I’m putting you in the car,’ he said. He swung her down and forward, pushing her easily into the backseat. Her dress had been pushed down by the motion. He pulled it up as he dragged the seatbelt across her.

‘This is kidnapping,’ she said, folding her arms under her breasts, pushing them up. She pouted at him, but the effect was ruined by her smeared makeup.

‘You see that car? You see those police officers with big guns?’ He pushed the hair back out of his eyes. ‘You want to go back in there and take your chances with them?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, you’d like that.’

He shut and locked her door before getting into the front of the car. As he started the engine he glanced back at her. She was looking right at him.

‘I don’t know you,’ she said.

‘I’ve only been working for your father for a few days.’

He was concentrating on the road now, but he heard her make a derisive sound.

‘Shows what you know, my daddy died three years ago. That _asshole_ running around wearing his suits can call himself whatever he wants but he’ll never be my daddy.’

He glanced at her in the mirror. ‘Your father died when you were twelve?’

‘Don’t talk to me like you’re a person,’ she said. ‘We’re not friends, you’re just some little person working for that asshole Vince.’

 He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. ‘Yes, Ma’am.’

‘What’s your name?’ she asked.

‘Kent Davison.’

‘I don’t like you,’ she said.

Kent nodded. ‘I got that impression, Miss Eaton.’

***

His days had a certain amount of variety but generally involved fetching, carrying, and driving. It wasn’t exactly stretching his skill set but he was very aware that he was at the bottom of the ladder and needed to work his way up. He accepted a certain amount of mindless manual labour as the price he had to pay in order to climb up.

Selina Eaton came out of the house to watch him wash the car. She didn’t hide what she was doing but stood, arms crossed, glowering as he smeared soapy water over the dirty vehicle. As he rinsed off the swirling suds, the water soaked into his clothes. He felt his shirt sticking to his skin as he leaned across the hood.

‘You missed a spot.’

He pushed his hair back out of his eyes, but he didn’t turn around. ‘I don’t see it.’

‘By the headlamp,’ she said.

Kent rolled his eyes. He slapped the sponge around the headlamp and then leaned across the roof.

She made a small, strangled sound that he ignored. He wasn’t paid to babysit bored teenagers. At nineteen, Kent of course considered himself _much_ more mature and responsible than a mere fifteen-year-old. Particularly a sulky fifteen-year-old who kept skipping school to get high and drunk with a lot of unsuitable young men.

‘You’re gonna take me to the new school,’ she said.

‘New school?’ He turned around.

She tapped her foot. Even with the ridiculous high heels she was tiny. ‘That asshole Vince has got my mom to send me to a boarding school. Joke’s on him, a bunch of my friends go there already.’

Kent picked up the bucket of dirty water and threw it. Selina jumped a foot to the side.

‘Watch what you’re doing, asshole!’

‘I was.’ He turned on the faucet and filled the bucket with clean water.

‘You basically work for me so you better start showing me some respect,’ she said.

Kent looked at her. ‘You first.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘You’re just staff.’

‘Is there something I can do for you? I’m trying to work.’

‘You’re not trying very hard,’ she sniffed. She ground her heel into the grass. ‘Mother says that you’re going to drive me to my new school tomorrow.’

He wiped his brow. ‘You said that already.’

‘Do you have something better to wear?’ She looked him over slowly. ‘You can’t take me looking like that.’

Kent put his hand on his hip. ‘Looking like what?’

‘It’s my first day! I need to make a good impression.’ She stabbed a finger at him. ‘So you need to make a good impression. You need to wear a suit, a _good_ one, not some threadbare thing with… with plaid or something!’

He laughed. ‘Miss Eaton, I don’t have _any_ suits and it wasn’t something your stepfather said I’d need.’

‘He’s not my stepfather,’ she growled. ‘He’s just some… piece of _ass_ and she’ll get bored of him. _He_ wants me out of the way but that won’t change anything.’

Kent licked his lips. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Look, I understand starting a new school is difficult and I would want to make a good impression if I were you. I genuinely don’t have a suit and I’ve not been working here long enough to be able to buy one. I’m sorry. Maybe someone else can drive you.’

She stared at him for a few seconds. ‘I’ll talk to my mother,’ she said, and spun on her heel.

Kent didn’t watch her go. The last thing he needed was people thinking he was getting friendly with the boss’s stepdaughter. Fifteen going on fifty going on five.

***

‘I know she’s a snotty little bitch, but it would make my life a lot easier to keep her happy until we get her to the boarding school,’ Vince said.

Kent took a half a step back. ‘Snotty little bitch?’

‘I know, I know,’ Vince said. ‘Just humour her, okay? Take her to whatever fancy-schmancy place she wants and let her buy you a suit. You only need to wear it once so just suck it up and get it done. If you like it you can keep it and if you hate it you can make it into cleaning rags. I don’t give a shit.’

Kent shrugged. ‘If that’s what you want.’

‘Good.’ Vince threw aside a pen. ‘Oh, she said something about a haircut as well.’

Kent set his jaw as he stomped out of the room. A haircut. A suit he could throw away was one thing but waiting for a bad haircut to grow out was something else entirely.

He found Selina in the stable, watching a pair of stable boys mucking out.

‘You like watching other people work.’

‘You people need monitoring,’ she said, tossing her hair back. ‘We gonna go make you look presentable?’

One of the stable boys sniggered.

‘The only thing that would make you look acceptable would the horse kicking you in the face,’ she snapped. She walked past Kent. ‘Come on. I know the place to go.’

Kent flashed a look at the stable boys, who rolled their eyes, and followed her out. She was wearing a little white sundress with poppies on it, a white wrap, and strappy high heels. Rich girls. His sisters wore jeans and t-shirts. The only time they or their friends wore dresses was to formals.

She made him open the car door for her. It wasn’t that Kent had no manners, but she was a kid, not a date, and not his boss. She especially wasn’t his boss. 

He paid her as little attention as possible as he drove. She talked almost constantly: about her dad, about her mom, about her nanny, and her horse, and her friends at the new school. But Kent had younger sisters and he was used to hearing them talking, and their friends. There was a wistfulness in the edge of Selina Eaton’s voice when she talked about her father and friends that he never heard from his sisters. A brittleness when she talked about her mother and stepfather. Sure, that had to be difficult. No love lost there.

‘Hey! I’m talking to you!’

‘I wasn’t listening,’ he said honestly.

He expected to yell at him.

He thought she might snarl.

He didn’t expect her to go red and look out of her window.

‘We’re nearly there,’ he said.

‘Whatever,’ she muttered, tightly folding her arms.

After they parked, she stayed stubbornly sat in her seat until he walked around and opened the door for her.

‘I’m not your chauffer,’ he said.

‘I think you’ll find you _are_ ,’ she said, flouncing past him. ‘Come on.’

***

She walked into the changing room. She walked into the changing room waving around a pair of suits, realised he was in his underwear, and went crimson.

‘Try these,’ she mumbled, and ran away.

She was a weird kid and the longer he was around her the more uncomfortable she made him. He’d only been working for the family a little while. If she got it into her head to start telling lies, then the family would have to take her word over his. Even a whisper that he was messing around with his boss’s teenage stepdaughter would poison his career prospects in politics forever.

Kent tried on all three suits quickly and hustled out of the changing room.

‘This one is fine,’ he said. ‘The black pinstripe.’

‘I wanted to see you wearing them! They might not suit you,’ she protested.

Kent handed her the other two. ‘I’m not a doll for you to dress up.’

‘I like shopping,’ she said quietly.

He sighed. ‘I’m not much of a fan.’ He checked his watch. ‘I should get you home, it’s nearly one.’

Selina brightened up. ‘We can lunch at Jettee. It’s just around the corner.’

‘I can’t afford –’

‘Ugh! I’ll pay _obviously_.’

‘Don’t do that.’ He winced at her expression. ‘You don’t have to pay people time with you. Anyone you need to pay isn’t worth the cost.’

She looked away. ‘I didn’t mean that,’ she said too quickly. ‘Just that I know Vince probably pays you peanuts. You’re a college student or something, right? You all work for experience and pocket change.’

Kent pushed his fingers through his hair. ‘Okay, sure, as long as this is like… expenses. A per diem. Because this is my job.’

Her cheeks flushed. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘That’s what I meant.’

A big smile and fluttering eyelashes knocked twenty percent off the price of the suit and she paid the remainder with mommy’s credit card. She sauntered outside and wandered towards the restaurant as he put the suit in the back of the car. He caught up with her easily enough. He outpaced her even without the sky-high heels.

‘What are you studying at college?’ she asked, looking at him over her shoulder.

‘Majoring in math,’ he said. ‘Minor in musicology.’

‘What the fuck is that?’

He gave her a look. ‘Is the language entirely necessary?’

‘You didn’t complain the last time,’ she said. ‘At Nick’s house.’

‘When you were screaming and trying to punch me?’ he asked. ‘Different circumstances.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘What’s musicology?’

‘The scholarly study of music. I favour enthnomusicology, which is the study of music in it’s cultural context.’

Selina pushed open the door to the restaurant. ‘So, you turned something fun, like music, into something boring, like history.’

Kent followed her into the restaurant, aware of the way the servers noticed her and fluttered around. Sure, it flattered the ego, but watching her he saw how fake it was, and the distance they kept.

‘I like history,’ he said, holding her chair out for her. ‘Admittedly some parts more than others.’

She gave him a suspicious look. ‘Don’t say World War Two.’

‘I wasn’t going to,’ he said, sitting down.

‘Or World War One.’ She picked up her menu. ‘Or just wars. Why are men always into war and violence and all that stuff?’

‘Because on some level we know that in a different time we might have fought and died in them,’ he suggested. ‘Well, not me, but I’m not that interested in war either.’

Selina frowned. ‘Why not you? What’s wrong with you?’

‘Flat feet.’

‘Flat feet? Lemme see!’

‘I’m wearing shoes, there’s nothing to see.’

She narrowed her eyes and looked under the table. ‘You’re wearing cowboy boots! You wear those a lot.’ She looked back at the menu. ‘Flat feet. That’s a dumb excuse for being a coward.’

‘You should be careful about throwing around words like “Coward.” I know you speak without thinking, but some people would take you seriously.’

Her jaw set. He’d been trying not to hurt her feelings. Teenagers, younger ones, not ones his age, were so touchy.

‘Okay, I won’t say anything!’ she snapped.

As if that was some kind of threat.

***

She sulked all the way home.

‘Avoided the haircut, huh?’ Vince asked jovially as they got out of the car.

‘It was late,’ Kent said. ‘I didn’t want one.’

‘Fine! Go out looking like someone put a mop on your head!’ she said, pushing past Vince. ‘You’re embarrassing yourself as well as anyone around you.’

They watched her stomp away.

‘Oops,’ Vince said lightly.

‘She’s a little... agitated,’ Kent said.

‘That’s one way of putting it. I can’t wait for her to go to the school tomorrow.’ He clasped Kent’s shoulder. ‘I don’t envy you being stuck in a car with her for hours... Come inside. You deserve a drink.’

Kent didn’t much care for his employer, for a number of reasons, but he was already aware that getting along was a vital part of working in politics. He didn’t think Vince’s congressional run had much chance of succeeding, he certainly hoped not, but it was experience and besides he needed the money.

So, Kent accepted a drink, and a second drink, then made his excuses when Mrs Eaton appeared. She was small woman. Shorter even than Selina, with a cold, predatory manner. He had been in a room with her a dozen times, and she had never once acknowledged he even existed.

‘This is Mr Davison,’ Vince said, as he tried to leave. ‘You know, the one Selina has taken a shine too.’

Kent felt himself redden, which wasn’t helped when Mrs Eaton broke with personal tradition and looked at him. It wasn’t a nice look. He suspected it was the sort of look she gave her dog when it crapped on the rug.

‘Mostly she yells at me,’ Kent said.

‘Show me your hands,’ she said.

Kent glanced at Vince, who shrugged, and held out his hands. She peered at them and nodded. ‘Turn them over.’

Kent bit the inside of his cheek as he did. Next summer he’d find somewhere else to work. Nearer to home and with fewer crazy people.

‘You’re very young to have calluses,’ she said. ‘I thought you were all college students. what do you do to get calluses?’

Kent tucked his hands in his pockets. ‘Writing. Ma’am, whittling, and the ones on the underneath of my fingers are from the handlebars on my motorbike.’

It was deliberately provocative, sure, but she was pissing him off. A grudging little half-smile tugged at her lips. ‘You ride a motorcycle?’

‘Yes, Ma'am.’

‘Not quite the boring, bland pretty boy you appear,’ she said. ‘Make sure my daughter gets to school tomorrow.’ She turned away before he could answer. ‘I suppose he’ll do,’ she said to Vince.

***

‘Don’t fuck her,’ Ben said.

Kent was loading up the car. He gave the other staffer a pained look.

‘What?’

‘Don’t fuck her.’ Ben hiked up his pants. ‘Even if she’s begging for it. Especially if she’s begging for it. Can’t trust chicks who are too enthusiastic. Rich ones looking to spite mommy are the worst.’

Kent put his hand on his hip. ‘What’s this gibberish?’

‘Selina Eaton. She’s the type to go running to mommy, and she could get you into a world of fucked up.’

Kent shook his head. ‘She’s fifteen!’

‘I lost my cherry when I was fifteen,’ Ben said wistfully. ‘Mary-Jo Mickelwhite. Behind the bleachers.’

‘She’s a child! I’m not going to sleep with her!’

Ben snorted. ‘She’s fifteen and you’re nineteen. Get over yourself. It happens all the time.’

Kent slammed the trunk shut. ‘You just told me not to.’

‘Because she’s the boss’s girlfriend’s daughter,’ Ben said. ‘Not to mention way too fast for you. You need a girl your own speed. Like a trainee librarian.’

‘You are nauseating,’ Kent said.

Ben shrugged and sauntered towards the house. “Don’t come whining to me if you lose your job because of her.’

Kent shook his head. He drove around to the main house, got out, and started reading a novel.

‘Are you kidding me?’ Selina asked.

He tucked the paperback into an inside jacket pocket. ‘I thought I might have to wait.’

She tapped her foot. ‘You said seven. It’s five past. _I’ve_ been waiting for _you_.’ She tossed back her hair. ‘Like I want to be here any longer than I gotta be.’

He opened the back door for her and then loaded her cases into the trunk. He’d have been a lot more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt, but oh no. That wasn’t good enough for her. He had to wear the damn suit instead.

‘At least you look smart,’ she said grudgingly as he got in and started the engine. ‘Except for your hair. Maybe we should’ve gotten you a hat.’

He looked at her in the mirror. ‘I am _not_ wearing a hat.’

‘Ugh! Fine!’

As they drew away, he saw her chew her lip. She looked out of the window, towards the house.

‘Your mom waving you off?’ Kent asked, glancing towards the building.

Selina scowled. ‘Like that would happen,’ she said quietly.

Kent winced, and didn’t ask any further questions.

***

They stopped at a service station for gas. Selina got out and stretched. Kent looked away. Between the tight mini-dress and sky-high pumps watching her stretch would’ve been insanity. He heard the light thump as she pushed herself up onto the hood.

He concentrated on filling the tank.

‘I’m hungry,’ she said.

Kent rubbed his forehead with his palm. ‘I can get you some snacks from inside.’

He was mostly joking. He expected outrage. Instead she sighed.

‘I guess,’ she said.

He finished filling the tank and pushed back his hair. ‘You want to go to a coffee shop or something?’

‘Or something,’ she said, brightening.

He walked towards the door. ‘Don’t run off.’

She spread out her arms. ‘What am I gonna do, run down the highway?’

‘Wouldn’t put it past you,’ he said lightly.

They were near enough the school that in the coffee shop she saw a couple of girls that she knew. _Not_ friends. The fake smiles and disinclination to invite her over proved that. Selina’s fake smile had a little less politeness and a little more hope. She was trying to fake popularity until she made it.

‘Who’s your friend?’ the brunette girl asked, pretending not to stare at Kent.

‘He’s driving me to school,’ Selina said dismissively. She waved a hand at him. ‘Staff.’

The blonde looked over her glasses at his crotch. ‘He’s cute. Do you lend him out?’

Kent pointed at another table. ‘I’m going to sit down.’

‘Noooo!’ the blonde wailed. ‘Sit with us!’

The brunette pursed her lips. ‘Yeah,’ she said to Selina. ‘Sit with us.’

He saw Selina hesitate for a fraction of a second. He knew, that she knew, that she was being treated as a tag-a-long. The price they had to pay to play at flirting with him.

‘Absolutely,’ she said. ‘Kent, go order me a fresh orange juice and a tuna melt, okay?’

She _sounded_ calm and confident, but he knew better just from the look in her eye. She was panicky, silently asking him for his help. He had no reason to go along with her. They both knew that.

‘Yes, Miss Eaton,’ he said nicely.

The relief and gratitude that flooded her face was thanks enough.

Afterwards, as they got back into the car, Selina squared her shoulders before she sat down.

‘Thanks for that whole… thing,’ she mumbled, and ducked into the car.

***

‘You didn’t fuck her?’ Ben checked.

‘No! What’s wrong with you?’ Kent gulped beer. ‘I just feel sorry for her.’

‘For the rich bitch who tried to force you to have a haircut? Why? She spends more on panties in a month than we get paid in a year.’ Ben crushed the empty beer can in his hand.

Kent swirled his beer around. ‘She’s just a kid,’ he said. ‘A lonely, unhappy kid trying to bluff her way through and pretending she’s a grown up.’

Ben lit a cigarette. ‘A teenager then,’ he sneered. ‘Listen to you, talking like you’re sixty.’

‘Still true,’ Kent said. ‘And don’t call her a bitch. You’re better than that.’

Ben tapped ash off his cigarette. ‘Can I call you a bastard?’

‘Is there any way of stopping you?’

‘No.’

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘You quit because he was an asshole about me?’ she asked quietly.

During the semester Kent worked a couple of different jobs. They were generally casual jobs, which meant he could work around his classes and also wasn't distract too much mentally from his college work. He liked, needed, to stay busy, and besides, while his parents covered his fees, he had to pay for accommodation and other living expenses. So, he picked up shifts at a bar a few nights a week, and at a coffeeshop on the weekend.

He didn’t even think about Vince or the Eatons until the Christmas vacations were looming. He had no intention of trekking all the way to Maryland just for a week’s work, a week that he could spend at home with his family. The phone call was a complete surprise. The only phone calls he normally received were from his mother on a Monday evening and from one of his jobs asking him to work an extra shift.

He wasn’t a spendthrift by any means, nonetheless money was always a pressing issue. He was in no position to refuse work without good reason and certainly in no position to turn down easy work for very good money.

But he wasn’t thrilled about it. Phillips Academy was less than twenty-six miles from MIT, but it was a lot further to Maryland.

‘I’ll bring her back,’ he told Vince. ‘But on a plane. She’s only coming back for a week. She won’t be bringing enough luggage that we need to drive.’

‘Really don’t want to be in the car with her that long, huh?’

‘Not really,’ Kent admitted. ‘And the longer I’m doing this the less time I’m with my family.’

‘But the less time she’s here,’ Vince chuckled.

Kent didn’t laugh.

‘Okay, fine,’ Vince said. ‘I’ll arrange a car. Pick her up. Drive her here. Drive her home. You’ll be done before dinner. Where are you going home to any anyway?’

‘Oregon,’ Kent said.

‘Jesus. Flying I hope?’

‘Saved up all summer,’ Kent said.

‘Well, obviously you have better plans than Selina,’ Vince said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Kent wasn’t taking much back home. During the summer he’d drive back home, if work allowed it, enjoying a private road trip. But it took days, time he didn’t have at Christmas.

He picked up Selina first thing in the morning. It was cold, ice crusted the car, and snow was settling in the trees. There were girls milling around in the courtyard, saying goodbyes and boasting about their vacation plans.

Kent saw Selina with a group of girls. Good. It took a moment for her to notice him but when she did, she smiled. It only lasted a second or two, and then she pretended to frown. She said something to the other girls and flapped a hand in his direction.

He imagined it was some reference to her mother sending the help to escort her home.

As he walked over, the girls turned to look at him. As did most of the other girls in the courtyard. He was surrounded by teenage girls. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation.

‘It’s so lame being driven around like I’m a child,’ she said, pulling on her gloves.

‘I’ll swap,’ a redhead said, gazing at Kent.

‘Please, he’s so boring, all he talks about is his motorcycle and stuff,’ Selina said.

He could feel the staring intensify. He also felt someone squeeze his ass.

‘Stop that,’ he said looking over his shoulder.

A younger black girl, only thirteen or fourteen, looked him in the eye steadily. ‘Or what?’ she asked. ‘Will you punish me?’

There was a mingled sound; a gasp, an “ooh,” and an embarrassed giggle. The girl didn’t do any of these things. She simply kept her eyes on Kent.

‘God, Sue, you’re so weird,’ Selina complained. ‘Get my bag, Davison. We’re gonna miss our flight.’

They weren’t, and he was sure she knew that, but he was in no mood to argue. He grabbed her suitcases and pushed his way through the crowd of girls.

Selina got in the passenger seat next to him.

‘Why aren’t you sitting in the back?’ he asked.

‘Because I don’t want to, duh!' She waved to the other girls as the car pulled away.

Kent kept his eyes on the road. She was wearing a miniskirt and a tight blouse. There was nothing he could safely look at.

‘Don’t you have a home to go to over Christmas?’ she asked. 

‘I’m going home after I drop you off.’

He heard her the rustle of material as she crossed her legs. ‘Oh. You’re not working?’

‘No.' Kent tapped his thumbs on the wheel. ‘Only during the Summer. This is a one-off.’

‘Oh.’ she nudged him with her elbow. ‘You can look at me. I don’t bite.’

He raised his eyebrows.

‘Not like that!’ she said, quickly. ‘You’re disgusting.’

‘I didn’t say anything. Any “disgusting” comments were in your own imagination.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Whatever.’ She opened her purse. ‘Do you have a light? I think I left mine in my room.’

He frowned. ‘You shouldn’t smoke.’

‘I’m seventeen, I’m old enough.’ She gave him a sideways look and licked her lips. ‘For lots of things.’

Kent opened the lighter. ‘You’ll stunt your growth.’

‘That’s coffee,’ she retorted. ‘And just because you’re a beanpole doesn’t mean you can make comments about me being short.’

‘I didn’t,’ he said. ‘But you are.’

‘Asshole.’ She lit her cigarette and tried to take a puff. She coughed and turned a little green.

Kent wound down his window. ‘It’s smells dreadful, it makes you taste terrible, it’s bad for you, and it doesn’t make you look cool. Let me get rid of it.’

‘Ugh! Fine!’ She handed it to him.

He ground it out in the ashtray.

‘What do you mean, makes me taste bad?’ She asked. ‘Are you gonna _eat_ me?’

He groaned softly. ‘If you kiss someone who smokes they taste terrible. Not that I want to kiss you. Obviously.’

She folded her arms. ‘You don’t want me to smoke because you want to kiss me?’

‘No! Dear lord. I don’t want you to smoke because it’s bad for you and you looked ready to throw up.’

‘Why is it obvious you don't want to kiss me?’ she demanded.

‘Obviously you wouldn’t want to kiss me.’

‘Why? What’s wrong with me?’

He gripped the wheel. ‘You know what I meant.’

She looked out of the window. ‘If I knew I wouldn’t ask.’

Kent sighed. ‘I’m sure there are lots of boys who like you.’

‘Hundreds. They’d queued up around the block,’ she said. ‘In your _dreams_ would you get to kiss me.’

Kent blew out his cheeks. ‘Good.’

‘I have a boyfriend,’ she said.

‘In Canada?’

‘What?’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Kent said.

Selina licked her lips. ‘His name is Tom James and he’s in the army and he writes me twice a week.’

Kent shrugged. ‘Good for you.’

She looked at him. ‘Do you have a girlfriend?’

He shook his head.

‘Why not? What’s wrong with you?’ she nudged his knee with hers. ‘Do you like boys?’

The car paused at the traffic lights. He looked at her. ‘Not everyone thinks that dating is that important. I have my education and my career to concentrate on. Romance can wait until I finish my post-grad and get my foot on the ladder.’

Selina rolled her eyes. ‘You could just _say_ you were gay.’

‘I’m not.’

‘It’s okay. All the coolest singers are. David Bowie and Freddy Mercury and um...’

Kent glanced at her. ‘They’re not gay, they’re switch hitters.’ He smiled slightly. ‘But it’s cool that you’re cool with that.’

She leaned against the window. ‘Yeah?’

‘Definitely.

She smiled slightly to herself. ‘Cool.’

***

‘I thought you weren’t coming back,’ Ben said. Sweat was running down his face. He had an ice cream clutched in his hand and he was fighting a losing battle to eat it before it entirely melted.

‘I wasn’t going to,’ Kent said, carrying his jacket over his shoulder. 

‘Whatcha doing here then?’

Kent shrugged. ‘They offered me significantly more money and a better position.’

‘They didn’t offer me shit!’ Ben complained, trotting after Kent.

‘You came back anyway. That’s on you.’

It was a long day, but he was used to long days. He didn’t much enjoy the Maryland weather, especially in summer. However, the food was good, the people were generally friendly, and he was meeting the movers and shakers of politics.

He was at his desk when a basketball knocked a sheaf of paper from his desk.

‘Oops. Sorry. Wait. No, I’m not.’

Kent narrowed his eyes. ‘What do you want, Roger?’

‘We’re all outside and you’re making us look bad. Come on.’

Kent cocked his head. ‘Why do you care what I do?’

Furlong shrugged. ‘Cafferty bet me ten dollars I couldn’t get you to come and shoot hoops.’

Kent scooped up his paperwork. ‘Give me five dollars.’

‘Fuck that!’

‘Then lose your ten dollars.’

Furlong groaned. ‘Fuck. Fine.’ He pulled a battered bill from his pocket and slapped it into Kent’s hand. ‘Get changed. You’re on Ben’s team.’

‘Lucky me.’

The court was by the house, but Mrs Eaton never came out on to it. Vince had given them permission to use certain facilities, mostly ones that she never used. She watched sometimes, from a window, especially if they were swimming in the pool.

Kent passed the ball to Ben. They were losing, but not badly. Kent was individually competitive, but Ben’s team comprised most of the younger or less coordinated staffers.

Furlong looked past them and jeered loudly. ‘Are you bringing her purse? Do you need to fetch her a lipstick?’

Will loped across to them. ‘No.’

‘Do you want to play with us?’ Kent offered.

‘Hey! Hey! No! He’s on our team,’ Furlong said.

‘He’s not your fucking stuffed toy,’ Ben said. ‘He can make up his own mind.’

Will silently edged next to Kent.

‘Now it’s an odd number,’ Furlong said.

‘You’re always such a sore fucking loser,’ Ben sneered.

It was the clip-clop of heels that made Kent turn around.

‘Christ, look at that dress,’ Furlong said. ‘Flashing tits she hasn’t got, who does she think she’s fooling?’

‘Nice legs,’ Ben said.

Kent pushed Furlong’s shoulder. ‘Shut the hell up.’

‘You gonna make me?’

‘Hey!’ Selina yelled.

They separated and spread out grumbling.

Ben scratched his forehead. ‘Something we can help you with, Miss Eaton?’

She was avoiding looking at Kent. ‘I wanna talk to Davison.’

‘I’m not working.’ Kent said. ‘This is my off-time.’

Ben slapped his shoulder. ‘Don’t be a fucking asshole. Talk to the lady.’

‘Right. Fine,’ Kent said, sighing. ‘Take over for me, Will.’

He walked over to the corner of the court and folded his arms. He was unpleasantly aware of how hot he was and how much he had been sweating.

Selina licked her lips as she looked him over. ‘You smell like my horse after a long run.’

‘I’ve been exercising,' he said. ‘You should try it.’

She slapped his forearm. ‘Smart ass. I’m not fat. Not anymore.’

Kent sighed. ‘What do you want, Miss Eaton?’

‘You’re too good to drive me now, is that it?’

He stared at her. ‘What?’

‘That _goober_ drove me back!’ She waved a handover at Will. ‘It took seven hours! Seven hours with that... bowl of oatmeal!’

Kent shook his head. ‘It took seven hours when _I_ drove you. That’s how long it takes.’

‘But that was fun! _He’s_ lame and boring and I wanted you to drive me!’

Kent pushed damp hair back from his face. ‘That was nothing to do with me. The lowest man on the tree gets the worst jobs and I’m not the low man anymore, Will is. It wasn’t my decision.’

Her mouth twitched. ‘So, I’m a punishment?’

‘No. But a seven-hour drive is something nobody wants to do.’

Selina tapped her foot. ‘When I walked over were you laughing at me?’

‘Certainly not.’

‘I just wanted to talk about music and school and all that stuff. You know interesting things.’ She tightly folded her arms. ‘He’s really boring! Do you think I'm boring?’

Kent shook his head. ‘It’s nothing like that. I didn’t blow you off. If wasn’t my choice.’

Someone on the court wolf whistled.

‘Is that aimed at me?’ she asked.

‘Roger Furlong thinks he’s hilarious.’

She clenched her jaw. ‘Me being sexy is a joke?’

Kent scratched his forehead. ‘He’s a jackass. Ignore him.’

She looked away.

‘Who cares what he thinks?’ Kent asked.

Selina folded her arms. ‘My mom says nobody will want to marry me when my figure is so unwomanly. She says I look like a teenage boy in his sister’s dress.’

‘I… I don’t even know where to begin with that.’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Ben thinks you have nice legs.’

‘Which one is Ben?’

He pointed. ‘Chubby. Long hair.’

‘Chewbacca?’

He shrugged. ‘Chewbacca is more articulate.’

Selina sighed. ‘Nice legs is what people say when you have tiny tits.’

‘May I give you a personal truth?’

She gave him a worried look. ‘I guess.’

‘Everyone finds different things interesting and different things attractive. Even so, what other people do or don’t find attractive about yet is far less important than how you feel about yourself.’

Selina twisted a lock of hair around her finger. ‘That’s an ugly duckling speech. You think I’m ugly?’

Kent put his hands on his hips. ‘If you’re simply fishing for compliments then I’m going to return to the game.’

‘That’s a yes then,’ she said as he walked away.

‘It’s not, and you know it,’ he called back.

***

Kent leaned back in his chair, balancing on two wheels. He had the phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder. ‘And have you seen anything in the news recently about the congressman being involved in dubious financial behaviour?’

It wasn’t exactly thrilling reading through the list of questions on the clipboard, but he was quite interested in the mechanics of the questions.

It was still a relief when Vince strolled over. Kent was confident enough, perhaps naïve enough, not to worry when the boss approached him unexpectedly. Besides, he knew he hadn’t done anything worthy of censure, and he still thought that mattered.

Kent finished off his call, and his chair thumped heavily onto the floor as he leaned forward.

‘Working hard?’ Vince asked, turning around a chair before straddling it.

‘I’ve nearly finished my list,’ Kent said, cracking his knuckles.

‘Great,’ Vince said. ‘We gave you a raise to come back this year, didn’t we?’

Kent picked up a pen and turned it over and over. ‘You did.’

‘We’re very impressed with your work,’ he said.

‘Okay,’ Kent said, setting his shoulders. ‘I’m sensing a “but” coming.’

Vince clicked his tongue. ‘Here’s the thing, Selina is being a total pain in the ass. She’s getting all up in my business with all these “opinions” if you can believe that. Gun control, abortion, equal pay. Equal pay!’ He chuckled. ‘She’s actually got this idea about going into politics. Can you imagine?’

Kent looked away. ‘I’m unsure what you’re asking me to do.’

‘She likes you,’ Vince said. ‘Maybe you could keep her out of my hair for a couple weeks. Take her shopping, to the movies, to a concert. Whatever she wants to do just keep her busy and away from me.’

Kent squirmed in his seat. ‘Oh.’

‘That’s a problem?’

‘I don’t think it's a great idea.’ He licked his lip. ‘She might have a little crush on me,’ he admitted.

‘No shit,’ Vince laughed. ‘But she’s half your size so if she gets up in your face just sit on her or something. All I’m asking you to do is keep her sweet for a couple weeks until she goes off to her grandparents.’

Kent ground his teeth. ‘I’m not a babysitter.’

‘She’s seventeen,’ Vince said. ‘And for all she’s a pain in the ass she’s not _bad_ looking. We’re gonna pay to hang out with a seventeen-year-old and her hot friends. Your asshole buddies are gonna be envious as fuck. Enjoy it.’

***

Kent stood in the doorway to Selina’s room and watched her gathering her things together.

‘You can come in,’ she said.

‘No thank you.’

'I’m not gonna jump on you.’ She sat on the bed and reached underneath, looking for something. ‘Are you gonna jump on me?’

‘I don’t think so,’ he said.

‘God, you’re really pissed about this.’ She dragged her sandals out from under the bed and put them on.

‘It’s not the job I was hired for.’

‘I don’t like it either!’ She stood up. ‘I’m not a brainless bimbo. I have interests. I have ideas. I have ambitions! I wanna learn how politics works so I can make it work better! All that asshole Vince wants is to get his nose in the trough.’

Kent regarded her. ‘You don’t want to go shopping?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘You know me better than that.’

He nodded. ‘You wanna go to a rally?’

Her eyes lit up. ‘What for?’

‘Ratification of the equal rights amendment. The National Organisation for Women. It’s in D.C. so it’d be a drive but nothing excessive.’

‘Great! Let’s do it! If we’re late coming back we can stay over,’ she said, suddenly more enthused and purposeful than he’d seen before. ‘This is gonna be great.’

‘Marches are long and tiring. There’s always a chance of violence,’ he warned. ‘We might get arrested.’

She looked him in the eye. ‘Hoo-fucking-rah.’

***

Rallies. Marches. Protests. Meetings with congressmen and townhalls with the governor. When Selina Eaton decided to do something, she was indefatigable. By the end of the first week, Kent’s head was spinning. Joining Ben in the pool with others was the first relaxation he’d had in days.

‘Don’t you want to run off and meet with the president?’ Furlong sneered.

‘I would much rather do that’ Kent said. ‘We work in politics.’

‘Ignore Furlong,’ Ben said. ‘He’s pissed he spent all yesterday stuffing envelopes.’

‘Why would I be pissed! I’ve got two years seniority over Mr Fucking-the-Boss’s-Daughter.’

Kent pushed back his hair. ‘I’m not sleeping with her.’

‘Vince would be happier if you were doing that,’ Will said. ‘He’s annoyed about all the attention she’s getting.’

Ben snorted. ‘She got in to see Senator Keely. Vince’s been trying to set up a meeting with him for months.’

Kent swam to the edge of the pool. ‘If Vince was a seventeen-year-old girl in a sundress maybe he’d have more luck.’

‘There’s a horrible image,’ Ben said.

‘Did Keely fuck her?’ Furlong asked.

Kent scowled at him. ‘What? No. He had an actual conversation with her. You should try it sometime. Nonetheless I’m sure being young and female made her noteworthy.’

‘And you made sure he noted you too I bet,’ Furlong said.

‘Certainly, I did, as you would. I have my career to consider.’

‘Fucking brown-noser.’

They looked around as they heard the door open. Selina, wearing a royal blue bikini, walked over.

‘Oh shit,’ Furlong moaned, plunging his hands into the water and covering himself.

Ben glanced at Kent. ‘If you’re not going make a run at her would you mind if I did?’

‘You warned me off, remember? A bad idea.’

‘It’s a terrible idea,’ Ben agreed. ‘But some of them are the ones most worth making.’

‘Your funeral,’ Kent said, shrugging.

‘What a sausage-fest,’ Selina said. ‘Why don’t you have any girls working with you?’

‘I ask the same question,’ Ben said. ‘I’m Ben. Can I help you into the pool?’

She lowered her sunglasses and looked at him. ‘Turn around. Ew. No. Gross.’

‘Do I have a zit or something?’ Ben asked Kent.

‘You have a hairy back,’ Selina said, shuddering. She walked to the other end of the pool and climbed up to the diving board.

‘Snotty bitch,’ Furlong said.

‘Don’t call her that,’ Kent said sharply.

‘Vince does.’

‘Vince is a dick,’ Ben said.

‘Yeah, and?’ Furlong asked.

‘And if you say something like that again I’ll punch you in the nose,’ Kent said.

Selina dived into the pool. Water splashed up covering them all.

‘Wish me luck,’ Ben said moving towards her.

‘She said you were gross,’ Will said helpfully.

‘She said my hairy back was gross,’ Ben said. ‘Maybe if I ask nicely she’ll help me shave it.’

‘I think I’m gonna be sick,’ Furlong said.

***

He supposed that it was inevitable. He just wished that he could have avoided it. Ben would probably have offered. Or even Furlong.

‘Is he your body guard?’ Karen asked, staring at him.

‘I’m not a bodyguard,’ Kent said. ‘I’m the driver.’

‘He can guard my body,’ Karen said.

‘He’s not, don’t you listen?’ Regina asked.

Selina’s friends didn’t exactly seem friendly to each other.

Kent had been around his sisters’ friend enough to know that open hostility was hardly the norm. It was enough to put him off his lunch.

‘Get your own driver,’ Selina said. ‘I called dibs.’

She was bored. Kent knew her well enough now to pick up on her lack of engagement and twinges of irritation.

They talked about their families, school, boys, fashion, and music. Regina, Barbara, and Selina talked about politics but Karen, Jane, Wendy, and the other girls were either bored or outright oppositional. Kent couldn’t have guessed any girls would argue against being equally paid, but somehow some of these girls were doing just that.

‘Do you think all this “politics” is going to get you a boyfriend?’ Barbara asked. ‘You’re not going to lose your virginity to a vote.’

Selina reddened. ‘I have a boyfriend. His name is Tom.’

‘Sure,’ Barbara said. ‘We’re supposed to believe that your stepdad doesn’t pay this brainless piece of ass to drive you around in the hope he’ll fuck you.’

‘He doesn’t!’

‘I'm not brainless,’ Kent said. ‘I have a degree in math and graduated second in my class. What do you have besides a rich daddy?’

Barbara looked at Selina. ‘Are you going to allow him to talk to me like that?’

Selina rolled her eyes. ‘Ugh. Say sorry, Kent.’

He stared at her. ‘I don’t work for you, Miss Eaton.’

She pursed her lips. ‘You are supposed to –’

‘I don’t work for you, Miss Eaton,’ he said flatly. ‘And I’m not employed to be abused by you or your friends. If she doesn’t wish to be spoken to like that then she shouldn’t talk to _me_ like that.’ He looked at Karen. ‘And stop grabbing my ass. It’s not funny and it’s certainly not appealing.’

‘Fuck off then,’ Selina said. She was white, and she was shaking slightly. She looked roughly in his direction but wouldn’t look him in the eye. ‘If you’re going to be like that then fuck off.’

‘Gladly.’

***

Vince laughed until he almost choked on his cigar. ‘You left her there?’

‘She told me to leave,’ Kent said. He was knocking his clenched fist against the desk.

‘She can’t drive, you know that?’ Vince chuckled. ‘Useless bitch couldn’t pass the test.’

Kent closed his eyes for a moment. ‘I quit.’

‘What? Over this? Come on,’ Vince said. ‘She was just trying to show off in front of her stuck-up little friends. Teenage girls are like sharks.’

Kent turned away. ‘She’s at the Saint Michel, if someone needs to pick her up.’

‘You’re making a big mistake,’ Vince said. ‘She’s got a trust fund from her daddy. Play your cards right, a few smiles, a couple compliments, and she’ll put out. Knock her up, marry her, and it’s the high life. It’d make life easier for me, I’ll tell you that.’

Kent stepped forward, raising his fists. ‘You –’

‘Don’t, he’s not worth it,’ Catherine Eaton said.

Vince went pale. ‘Cathy –’

‘Go and pick my daughter up,’ she said to Kent. ‘I’ll compensate you for your annoyance and also your _discretion_. Is that understood?’

‘What should I tell Selina?’ he asked quietly.

‘Whatever you wish,’ she said dismissively. ‘I’m more concerned with what you _don’t_ say to your little colleagues.’

‘I’m not going to say anything to anyone who works here,’ Kent said distastefully.

Catherine Eaton stared at him coldly. ‘Good. Why are you still here?’

***

Selina was sat on the porch outside the restaurant. She glowered at Kent as he walked over.

‘Asshole! You left me here!’

‘You told me to fuck off,’ he said, helping her to her feet.

She smacked his arm. ‘I didn’t mean abandon me! I should get mom to have Vince fire you!’

‘I already quit,’ Kent said. ‘I’m only here because your mom offered me extra. When I’ve dropped you off I’m gone.’

Her mouth twitched. ‘You quit?’

‘Yeah.’ Kent started walking towards the car.

‘Are you a pussy?’ she asked, chasing after him. ‘Who quits because someone was rude to them?’ Selina grabbed at his arm. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

‘Get in the car,’ Kent said.

‘Talk to me!’

Kent narrowed his eyes. ‘We can’t have a private conversation in the middle of the street.’

Selina pursed her lips. ‘Fine!’ She yanked open the door and got into the car.

He got in the driver’s side. It was a twenty-minute drive back to her home. He’d drop her off. He’d get his stuff. He’d leave. Simple. No big deal.

For a few minutes it looked as if she was going to sulk all the way back. That would have been a relief. Instead she glowered at him.

‘What’s going on?’ she demanded. ‘You’re not quitting because of me.’

He didn’t look at her. ‘Partially. I have no interest in working as a babysitter or a paid companion.’

‘I didn’t ask you to!’ she protested.

‘Look, I probably don’t have to tell you this but… Vince is not a good guy.’ Kent glanced at her. ‘He doesn’t have your best interests at heart.’

‘No shit.’ Selina chewed her lower lip. ‘You quit because he was an asshole about me?’ she asked quietly.

‘If he talks that way about you that way then he’s clearly a dishonourable, selfish, and untrustworthy man,’ Kent said.

He knew that she was looking at him. Looking at him for far longer than he felt comfortable with.

She put her hand on his thigh. ‘Thanks,’ she said softly.

He patted her hand and gently moved it to her leg. ‘You do that and you’re going to get me into a world of trouble.’

‘Might be worth it,’ she said.

‘Easy for you to say.’


	3. Chapter 3

The sergeant was chewing tobacco. She looked at Kent over the top of the podium.

‘Nobody here with that name,’ she said.

Kent gulped the burned coffee that he’d grudgingly purchased from the vending machine. ‘Your man, Detective Doyle, called and said that you’ve got a girl who won’t give you her name, but she asked for me.’

She chewed loudly. ‘You come out in the middle of night for girl and you don’t know who she is?’

‘I think _I_ know who she is,’ Kent said. ‘From the description and giving my name anyway. So, you can tell this detective that I’m here, as he asked, or I can go back home. Totally your call.’

The door swung open and a tall, older man wandered through. The sergeant pointed at Kent.

‘That’s your guy,’

‘What’re you the boyfriend?’ he asked, giving Kent a jaundiced look.

Kent shook his head. ‘Friend of the family.’

Detective Doyle took out a pen ‘The name of the family being…?’

‘Let’s wait for the lawyer,’ Kent said.

‘She hasn’t asked for a lawyer.’

Kent shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘I have. He’ll be here in about twenty minutes.’

Doyle smiled casually. ‘We could have all this sorted out by then. If you just ask her to tell what happened, we can get it all cleared up.’

Kent cocked his head. ‘Or we could do what’s best for her and wait for the lawyer.’

Doyle put his hands on his hips. ‘Okay. We can do that. I’m going to be here until the morning anyway.’

***

Her makeup was smeared. Her hair was knotted and tangled. Those were merely surprising.

Her dress was ripped. That was alarming.

As they walked into her cell, she scrubbed her eyes with her hand.

‘Hey.’

‘Hey? The first time I see you in two years is you calling me to bail you out. You’re damn lucky I was still in Boston, if I’d been in Oregon I couldn’t have come.’

Selina pushed her hair out of her face. ‘Don’t yell at me. I’m having a shitty night.’

‘Are you drunk?’ he asked, sitting next to her.

‘Uh-huh.’ She leaned against him. ‘I feel sick.’

‘Don’t throw up on me, okay? I’ve brought you a lawyer.’

She moaned softly. ‘No. My mom’s gonna find out.’

The lawyer stepped forward. ‘You’ve been arrested, Selina. Let’s get that dealt with before we worry about your mother.’

‘If you’re charged then you can forget about a career in politics,’ Kent said.

‘It was his fault!’ Selina said, looking at Kent. ‘He started it. I just defended myself.’

‘Tell me what happened,’ the lawyer said.

***

She was still tipsy when they left the station house. She pulled Kent’s jacket around her against the chill air and shivered.

‘Put your shoes on,’ Kent said.

‘My feet hurt,’ she whined.

‘Take her home,’ the lawyer said. ‘I’ll discuss this with Mrs Eaton. I’m sure she’ll approving wiring you a payment to cover your time and expenses.’

‘Wait, she’s not picking her up?’

Selina rolled her eyes. ‘Won’t even leave her vacation.’

Kent looked at the lawyer.

‘She’s on vacation at Martha’s Vineyard,’ he said. ‘Selina isn’t a child, she’s nineteen. Take her to her dorm, make sure she doesn’t choke on her own vomit, and leave. Your assistance is appreciated.’

‘I didn’t say I’d do any of that,’ Kent protested.

Selina took his arm. ‘Thanks Kent,’ she mumbled. ‘You’re a good guy.’

‘You want to tell her otherwise?’ the lawyer asked.

***

Selina fell asleep in Kent’s car. She looked much younger than her age. He was glad that she was capable of defending herself against would-be predators. He’d never doubted that she’d be willing to do so.

She’d written to him a few times since he’d left. Kent had sent back short answers, not wanting to encourage her but also not being willing to brush her off either. He hadn’t expected to see her again, except perhaps if she ever did go into politics.

He wasn’t very surprised that his knocking at the dorm spurred no response.

‘Selina, where’s your key?’

She didn’t answer. He cursed quietly and checked her purse. It was a relief he didn’t have to pat her own for wherever she might have it secreted about her person. It was a _huge_ relief it had a room number on the key-fob.

Selina was coming around as he half-carried and half-dragged her over to the bed.

 ‘I want a glass of water,’ she muttered.

Kent dumped her on the bed. ‘Don’t move.’

‘Like I wanna.’

He fetched her a tumbler of water from the bathroom. The floor was covered in discarded tissues and bits of plastic wrapper and cardboard boxes. There was a ring of grey grime around the bath. Soap and toothpaste were dried to the sink in chunks. Panties and pantyhose were strewn across the furniture and hung over the shower cubicle.

‘You people are disgusting,’ he said to Selina. ‘What, you think cleaning is for the poor?’

She ignored him, grabbed the tumbler, gulped the water, handed it back, and threw herself onto the bed.

‘Good night,’ she muttered, throwing her arm over her eyes. Kent shook his head and made himself comfortable on the pull-out couch.

***

Sunshine woke him up. He checked his watched: barely four hours sleep. Shit.

‘Did we fuck?’

Kent looked over at her. She was sat on the edge of the bed, feet dangling, dress half hanging off her shoulders.

‘No. We did not.’

She nodded. ‘Stay there.’ She picked up a few things and wandered out.

Kent looked around the room. Dorms were the same everywhere, although Selina’s was a single which was unusual. She had a poster of Klimt’s _The Kiss_ and a cutesy poster with ‘uplifting’ slogan. Her clothes were knee-deep on the floor. Make-up was strewn across the table.

Kent sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. If he left now, then he could be back home in time to have a very quick shower and get into work.

Selina slipped back into the room. Her hair was wet, but her face was fresh and clean. She had put on a pink teddy and a matching silky robe.

‘Um, I’m going to –’

‘What?’ She climbed onto his lap. ‘You’re not running off.’

‘I need to get to work,’ he said weakly.

She unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his flies. ‘You can go to work, later.’

‘Do I get a choice?’ he asked, amused.

She gave him a darkly cynical look. ‘I’m half your size. You’re letting me sit here. That’s a choice.’

‘Maybe I’m scared.’

‘You should be,’ she smirked at him. ‘This is you being offered no-strings-attached sex with a hot nineteen-year-old. Is that a head scratcher for you?’

Kent pushed down his jeans and underwear. ‘No, but it’s nice to be asked.’

‘Ugh, okay. Would you like to kiss me, grope me, and fuck me?’ she asked. ‘Then you can run off to your job.’

He kissed her. ‘Yes. I’d like that.’

‘About fucking time.’


	4. Chapter 4

He went to a lot of fundraisers. That is to say that Governor Zurek went to a lot of fundraisers and Kent accompanied her. This was a fundraiser for a prospective senator. Zurek didn’t normally invest much time in political neophytes, but Selina Meyer was a young woman and, although he hadn’t met her himself, Kent had heard good reports. Kent spent most of his time with other staffers, not politicians. He was building up his reputation well enough, but he wasn’t quite there yet.

He accepted a drink from a server and went towards the open balcony doors. It was warm in the room, much too warm for Kent in his tuxedo. Perhaps he should have had his hair cut. It was lapping his shoulders at the back. He liked it, but it wasn’t fashionable any more, and worse than that it was warm.

The coolness of the balcony was a relief. There were a couple of people out there already. They exchanged glances at Kent and then continued their conversation.

Kent sipped his glass of wine. It was good quality, but he hadn’t eaten in hours and he was worried about the alcohol going to his head.

‘There you are,’ Eleanor Zurek said.

Kent turned around.

‘You need to meet Mrs Meyer. It’ll be illuminating.’ She snapped her fingers at him. ‘Come on, don’t dawdle.’

She wasn’t a poor employer, certainly not compared to many others he’d had, but she was brusque and commanding. Neither trait made her fun to work for, but he could deal with them easily enough. Besides, she had her more… engaging moments.

She brushed lint from his collar. He followed her into the room and through the throng.

He heard the voice a couple of moments before he saw her. She was surrounded by a ring of people. It wasn’t until they moved to admit Zurek and Kent that he saw Mrs Meyer. She gave Kent a cheeky smile.

‘The infamous Mr Davison,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m told you’re the man to talk to about polling.’

‘Count me out,’ said a dark, oily looking man. ‘That’s not my idea of a party.’ He took Zurek’s arm, to her surprise, and guided her away.

Most of the onlookers followed him.

‘Jesus, I’m hot,’ Selina Meyer said.

‘Yes,’ Kent said. ‘You are.’

She smirked at him. ‘Is there somewhere cooler we can talk?’

‘Out on the balcony,’ Kent suggested.

The couple had left the balcony. Selina immediately found the small bench and sat down.

‘Are any fuckers listening to us?’ she asked.

‘Not that I can see.’ Kent sat beside her. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here.’

‘It’s _my_ fucking party,’ she protested, draining a glass of wine.

‘I didn’t know that.’ Kent nodded at her hand. ‘Congratulations. how long have you been married?’

She grimaced. ‘Too long!’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Kent said.

She reached over to play with his bowtie. ‘I have to smile and nod and play nice, you know? Gotta be a happy married person to get elected.’

‘Is it going to be a problem?’ he asked.

She shrugged. ‘Sooner or later he’s gonna fuck the wrong girl. Just the law of statistics, you know.’

‘He cheats on you?’ Kent demanded.

‘Yeah, look at me. I grew up and married an asshole just like Vince.’ She tucked back a lock of hair. ‘It’s nothing new. I’m used to it.’ She crossed her legs. ‘You didn’t know it was me, huh? Are you disappointed?’

‘Not at all.’

She smiled at him. ‘You’re not wearing a ring.’

‘I’m not married,’ he said easily.

‘Shacked up? Bumping uglies? Or are you still concentrating on your career at the expense of everything else?’

Kent shrugged. ‘Nothing serious or regular.’ He took a sip of his wine. ‘I suppose you think I haven’t changed much.’

She grinned. ‘You’re dressed a lot better.’

‘So are you.’

‘Fuck you. The last time you saw me I was wearing lingerie.’

Kent nodded. ‘It was something I didn’t easily forget.’

‘Did you _try_ to forget it?’

‘Not really,’ he admitted.

She smiled. ‘God, why didn’t we see each other again after that?’

‘You had college, I had work, and we weren’t... dating,’ Kent said.

‘But we were friends.’ Selina put her hand on his knee. ‘There’s no reason we can’t be friends now.’

‘You’re married,’ Kent said. ‘You’re running for election. Don’t you have a child?’

‘Ugh! I’m not asking you to run away with me,’ she said. ‘I can’t sleep with Andrew, Christ knows what diseases that man-whore would give me. Just say you’ll come fuck me now and then.’

‘I can’t afford a scandal,’ he said.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Like I can. We’re just two friends helping each other out. No big deal.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘Write down your number for me.’

‘You haven’t changed,’ he said, amused.

‘I’ve changed a little bit.’

‘No.’ He handed over the paper. ‘You haven’t grown a single inch.’

She tucked the paper away in her purse. ‘Asshole.’

‘You won’t be calling me then,’ he said.

‘Pfft, not gonna let a little thing like that stand in the way.’

Kent watched her sashay back into the room. It was a terrible idea and a worse decision, but he couldn’t bring himself to worry just now.

***

Family only. He understood the words themselves, obviously, and the sentiment had a certain chilly logic. There was no rational reason to feel hurt or excluded. And yet “family only” was an iron door through which he couldn’t pass.

He’d known her longer. He had more of her trust and openness. But he wasn’t family.

Ben drained his beer and gestured to the bartender. Kent wondered why he bothered with beer. Ben had been a heavy drinker for years. Beer was about as potent as water to him.

Kent sipped his own beer.

‘Did you hear about Meyer?’ Ben asked.

Kent raised his eyebrows in silent inquiry.

Ben put his finger to his forehead and made a screwing gesture. ‘Total breakdown. They had to haul her off to the laughter factory.’

‘Is that entirely necessary?’ Kent asked. ‘Could you not afford the sufferers of mental distress some sympathy and compassion?’

‘I’m sympathetic,’ Ben protested.

‘Your actions, words, and tone suggest entirely otherwise,’ Kent said acidly.

Ben toyed with his glass. ‘It’s fucking scary.’

‘What?’

‘You know. Going loopy like that.’ He shuddered. ‘It could happen to any of us.’

‘A good reason for compassion instead of stigmatising her,’ Kent said firmly. ‘It’s ill health. She’s receiving medical care. She’ll recover. Look at President Stevenson. When he was senator he was in and out of Betty Ford.’

‘He’s been to the clinic too,’ Ben said.

Kent rolled his eyes. ‘Is it necessary to cheapen everything with a dismal attempt at humour?’

‘Yeah. it’s how I get through the day without punching you.’

Kent narrowed his eyes. ‘That’s self-preservation.’

Ben drained his beer. ‘You think you could take me? I’m heavier than you.’

‘And none of it is muscle,’ Kent said tartly. ‘Heavier, slower, more unfit. You’d be wheezing for breath within thirty seconds.’

‘You’re in a crappy mood,’ Ben grumbled.

‘You started it.’

‘I’m an aggressive asshole. You’re supposed to be above all that.’ Ben leaned back. ‘When’s the last time you got laid?’

‘Are you offering?’ Kent asked tartly.

‘No. Jesus. I’ve seen you in too many locker rooms. Ow.’ Ben scratched his forehead. ‘I’m getting married.’

‘Again?’

Ben scowled. ‘Fuck you.’

‘You just said you wouldn’t,’ Kent pointed out.

‘What? Oh, shut up if you’re gonna be a smart ass about it.’ Ben unbuttoned his collar. ‘Men don’t do well alone. I don’t. You don’t. Why don’t you marry her?’

Kent looked around the bar. ‘Who?’

Ben belched. ‘The girl. The one you’ve been fucking. I’ve smelled her perfume on you. Seen you turn down women you liked.’

‘I’m not dating anyone,’ Kent said.

‘Bullshit. Did you break up?’

Kent sipped his beer. ‘It was... friendship and occasionally sex.’

Ben gave him a jaundiced look. ‘Did you have a good excuse for treating her as fucking disposable?’

‘I never did that,’ Kent protested. ‘Believe me, if she wanted a different relationship she would have made it very clear.’

‘You _don’t_ have an excuse for stringing her along,’ Ben sneered.

Kent sighed. ‘You are radically misjudging the situation. It’s not at all what you think. She’s not some meek girl moaning that I won’t commit to her. We’re not dating. We’re not romantic. We’re friends. Sometimes we have sex.’

‘Every woman wants to get married,’ Ben claimed.

‘That’s simply not true,’ Kent said. ‘And in any event...’

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

Ben drummed his fingers on the bar. ‘Is she already married?’

Kent folded his arms. ‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Are you fucking stupid? Why’re you messing around with a married woman?’

‘You have affairs all the time!’

‘I’m not gonna get killed by some jealous husband,’ Ben snapped.

Kent cocked his head. ‘You hope.’

‘I don’t sleep with married women,’ Ben said. ‘Single girls only.’

Kent rolled his eyes. ‘Am I supposed to be impressed with your moral fortitude?’

‘You’re supposed to consider the risk you’re taking.’

Kent sighed. ‘I haven’t seen her in some weeks,’ he said. ‘I don’t know if I’ll see her before I take the job with Congressman Pickford. It may all be moot.’

Ben grimaced. ‘You’re gonna hate Texas.’

‘Perhaps. However a job is a job,’ Kent said.

Ben hitched up his pants. ‘But you’ll be coming back?’

Kent shrugged. ‘It depends how his re-election campaign goes. Why?’

‘I’m getting married.’

Kent nodded. ‘You said.’

Ben stared at him. ‘I’m getting married and you gotta be there.’

Kent blinked. ‘Do I? Are you asking me to give you away?’

‘That’s the bride, you insufferable icicle dick,’ Ben said. ‘Be my fucking best man and don’t make a smart comment or get nauseatingly sentimental or any of that shit.’

‘Okay,’ Kent said.

‘And stop smiling. We’re men.’

 


	5. Chapter 5

He wrote a few times. He wasn’t very comfortable expressing himself in text at the best of times, and replicating their bantering, teasing conversations without her input was impossible. He tried his best to let her know that he was well but that he missed her company.

She didn’t reply.

He spent a while in Texas with the triumphant congressman, before coming back to D. C. Ben’s marriage was imminent and besides, Kent was bored of BBQ and chili.

‘You met my buddy Stuart?’ Ben yelled over the music.

Kent gave the man a nod. He was trying not to look at the gyrating stripper on the pole. ‘Kent Davison.’

‘Stuart Hughes. Ben says you’re a strategist. Just pushed McCardle to re-election.’

‘That cow-fucking moron,’ Ben said. ‘Fuck knows how.’ 

‘Good data and a great smile,’ Kent said. ‘Charm always helps.’

Hughes was nursing a glass of water. That was... interesting. ‘I’m putting together a team,’ he said.

‘Congressional run?’ Kent asked.

‘In the short term,’ Hughes said.

Kent regarded him. ‘What’s the long term?’

***

Selina had made give a splash entering congress. Kent was more concerned with Hughes’ long-term plans than his congressional work. He rarely made it into Hughes’ congressional offices. Kent had mixed feelings about Selina’s congressional success. She hadn’t made an effort to contact him and he didn’t want to be the sort of man who didn’t know how to take a hint. He tried not to think about it. It prickled.

It wasn’t the sex – although that had been passionate, exciting, and fun – as much as it was the company. Selina was an erratic friend, selfish and unreliable, but she was a blast of sunshine on a grey day. She was sharp, funny, and utterly irrepressible. He missed her happiness and her ranting alike.

Well. There was nothing to be done about it. She was divorcing the slimy husband so soon enough she could openly spend time with whoever was lucky enough to warm her bed. Kent didn’t date much or widely. He had little time and he knew that he wasn’t a man with easy charm. Romantic relationships weren’t a major priority for him, and people rarely appreciated that.

***

‘This is gonna be fun,’ Ben said, cracking walnuts. ‘We knew her when she was a kid.’

Hughes put his feet up on his desk. ‘That doesn’t make me feel a hundred years old.’

Mrs Hughes folded her arms. ‘How old was she?’

Ben looked at Kent. ‘You knew her better than me. Sixteen? Seventeen?’

‘Seventeen,’ Kent said. ‘The second time.’

Mrs Hughes thinned her lips. ‘Too young for any scandal then?’

‘Stepfather was an asshole,’ Ben said. ‘Wouldn’t be surprised if he’d made a pass at her.’

‘Attacking a female opponent based on her teenage years could easily backfire,’ Kent said quickly. ‘We would be better elevating the argument to her policies and lack of experience in serious political discourse.’

‘She called me a clothes horse,’ Mrs Hughes said.

‘Not on the public record,’ Kent said.

Ben snorted. ‘It’s all about the public record now,’ he said. ‘Old man Eaton was a crony of Nixon’s and after he died her mom took up with charming crook who had his eyes on congress.’

‘Your point, Ben?’ Hughes asked.

‘She grew up around politicians. She’s got thick skin and she knows how the game is played.’ Ben belched. ‘We need to make sure we don’t give her any extra ammunition.’

Mrs Hughes pursed her lips. ‘You think she’d play the innocent little victim card?’

Kent smiled slightly. ‘Selina Meyer will play any card that will get her what she wants.’

***

‘I know you,’ Selina said. ‘You have a hairy back and you chew with your mouth open.’

Ben gave a rare grin. ‘Hey, I didn’t think you’d remember me.’

Selina pushed her hair behind her ear. ‘You’re kinda hard to forget.’

She looked good. A little tired, maybe, but at this stage in a campaign everyone looked tired.

The primaries had been bruising. They had insulted and demeaned their opponents ruthlessly, and now they had to smile, be charming, and pretend to be friends.

Selina didn’t smile at Kent. She made no effort to be friendly.

‘What did you do to Meyer?’ Ben asked as they went over the plan for the next day.

‘I have no idea.’

‘She was looking at you like she wanted you dead,’ Ben said.

‘I’m aware,’ Kent said, quietly

Ben scratched his head. ‘You didn’t sleep with her daughter?’

Kent stared at him in speechless disgust.

‘Okay!’ Ben threw up his hands. ‘Jesus. I was just asking. It’s not like she’s twelve and she’s not that bad looking. If you gave her a makeover she might pass muster.’

‘That is not the point!’ Kent retorted.

‘I don’t fucking know with you,’ Ben said. ‘What do you find attractive?’

‘Not mopey teenage girls,’ Kent said firmly.

***

'The ex-husband is a problem,’ Mrs Hughes said.

‘That’s one way of putting it, sure,’ Ben said.

‘America doesn’t like unmarried politicians and it _hates_ unmarried women. Never married, divorced, or widowed it doesn’t matter. A single person over forty is suspicious,’ she said.

Ben and Hughes looked at Kent.

‘That’s not borne out by polling, he said.

‘That’s not why we’re looking at you,’ Ben retorted.

Kent ignored him. ‘There have been a few speculative reports of a feud between Selina and Andrew.’

‘A feud? They’re divorced,’ Ben said. ‘You don’t divorce someone because you like them.’

Hughes clasped his hands together. ‘It would look better to have him do a few photo shoots. Big up that they can put their problems aside for the things that are truly important.’

‘The election,’ Ben said.

‘Their _daughter_ ,’ Mrs Hughes said.

‘Oh, yeah. Her.’

Hughes snapped his angers. ‘Sort it out, Kent.’

Ben shrugged. ‘She already hates your guts. Might as well give her a reason.’

Kent sighed. He hadn’t spoken directly to Selina yet. He had tried, but she sent out her chief of staff as a proxy.

Chief of staff. The girl wasn’t even thirty and, although she seemed devoted and reasonably capable, she was completely neurotic. Her constant micro-managing was driving both Kent and Ben to ever more elaborate revenge fantasies.

But Kent had his orders. He gathered up his things and went to find Amy to give her the “good” news. Andrew plus photoshoots. Perhaps they could go to a suitably photogenic charity. Nothing with bruises, open sores, or weeping. Some sort of activity might also be good. Perhaps river rafting. Selina had enjoyed swimming and water sports when she was younger.

***

Mrs Hughes, FLOTUS now, put her hand over Kent’s. ‘I’m so sorry. I remember when my father died. It was a waking nightmare.’

‘Thank you,’ Kent said. ‘My mother is still very poorly. She needs considerable assistance.’

FLOTUS nodded. ‘A car accident, Ben said?’

‘My father’s health had been poor for years. It was a stroke in the end.’ Kent winced. ‘Unfortunately, he was driving my mother home from shopping at the time.’

‘Are you sure that quitting is what you need to do?’ President Hughes asked. ‘You could take a leave of absence.’

Kent shook his head. ‘I’m unsure how long she’ll need me for, Sir. It may be some considerable time.’

FLOTUS squeezed his hand. ‘Make sure you look after yourself as well, Kent. We don’t want you burning out.’

He drove to Oregon. It took days of course. He could have flown. The president would have found some excuse to take him. He drove because he needed to drive. He needed hours of quiet and peace with nothing but his own thoughts. He loved driving, almost as much as he loved riding his motorbike or going out on his boat.

When he arrived back home, the first thing he did was check in with his sisters. Imogen was irritable and teary. Perdita was guilty and upset. They both chided him for taking so long.

‘I’ve been working eighteen-hour days, seven days a week,’ he said. ‘For months. I needed time to... decompress and process things.’

‘We didn’t get to do that,’ Imogen said.

***

There was a condolences card “from the office of the Vice President.” The message was bland and perfunctory. The signature was someone else’s masquerading as hers. Amy Brookheimer’s he thought. Silence would have been less insulting.

His mother’s surgeon was tall and athletically built with fiery, intelligent eyes and black onyx skin. The first time he met her, she gave him a full explanation of the facts with admirable prompt efficiency. The second time he met her was in an elevator as he headed to the cafeteria. She gave him a slow look up and down, smiling and undisguised. Then she wrote down her number and gave it to him.

***

When Hughes called and begged him to come back, Kent was doing consultancy work for multinationals. It meant he could largely work from home, which made his mother’s care simpler. Not that she was particularly happy about it.

‘Good! Go!’

‘Mom –’

She glowered at him with black eyes the size of buttons. ‘You’re wasting your life here. Go to Washington. Work for the President. Meet people! I’m sick of you moping about over Marla.’

He pulled a face. ‘I’m not.’

She waved her hand. ‘Go. The girls are here, and you can hire me a nice couple of nurses. Shoo.’

Kent folded his arms.’ Is that all you have to say?’

She sighed. ‘No, of course not. I’m tired, Kent. I’m tired of being a burden to you. I’m tired of seeing you grow more strained and more agitated. You’re my son and I love you. Now go away. I don’t want to see in person for at least a year.’

‘A year?’

‘You can call,’ she allowed. ‘But that’s it.’

‘Thank you for your generosity,’ he said archly.

He flew back to D. C. The truth was that he was relieved to be going. Relieved to be free of the burden of caring for his mother and pretending his work didn’t bore him. He still had the guilt of course. The guilt that it was burdensome. The guilt that leaving was a relief, and the guilt that chewed at him every time he was irritated or agitated by something she did or didn’t do.

It was obvious that Hughes was in a mess, that things would be difficult and stressful, and Kent welcomed it. Throwing himself into even a disaster felt like escape.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Kent looked at his eye in the changing room mirror. Selina’s lackey had been right; it wasn’t cut, and the bruising was very minor. Nonetheless, his eye ached. More than that, Selina had spent hours demeaning him, and treating him like a stranger, before finally assaulting him.

‘Hey,’ Ben said, wandering into the room. ‘I thought you’d run away.’

‘I needed medical attention.’ Kent went into a shower cubicle and turned on the water.

‘Thanks for talking to FLOTUS,’ Ben called over the sound of rushing water.

‘No idea what you’re talking about,’ Kent said.

Ben pulled open the cubicle door. ‘Bullshit –’

‘Hey!’

‘ – she grassed you up,’ Ben continued, ignoring Kent’s outrage.

‘Shut the fucking door!’

Ben rolled his eyes. ‘Jesus, touchy.’ He stepped back and shut the door. ‘Also, you’re in charge. I’m going to bed. Meyer has to do the morning shows.’

‘I know that,’ Kent called back.

‘She doesn’t. You’ll have to tell her. Try to have some fun with it.’

Kent leaned his against the cubicle wall. ‘I was really hoping to avoid her.’

‘That’s not gonna happen,’ Ben said. ‘POTUS wants you taking the lead with her.’

Kent groaned softly.

‘Well, I’m off to knock myself out with booze and sedatives,’ Ben said. ‘Enjoy your night.’

Kent tried to summon up the energy to shower. Somehow it had lost its appeal.

Kent wasn’t an aggressive man particularly, but he wasn’t a pushover either. If someone, Selina, was aggressive to him, then he would be aggressive back. If someone, Selina, was dismissive and abusive to him, then he would be dismissive and abusive back.

***

Jonah liked the sound of his own voice. It was a wonder that he shut up long enough to hear the gossip and speculation that he spewed without the slightest provocation. Kent considered asking him for his top favourite comic book characters, purely for a variety of topic, but didn’t want to encourage the boy to talk.

The fact was that Kent had a far more reliable source of information. Stacey was the staffer tasked with maintaining the Meyer file: everything about Meyer, definitive or rumoured, was detailed, referenced, cross-referenced, and monitored. It was a hefty tome. Meyer’s poor relationship with the security service had made their liaison rather more open with Stacey then he would have otherwise been. Kent hadn’t been particularly pleased to learn there even was a Meyer file, let alone that he was supposed to read it. Stacey, however, was thrilled to finally show off her work.

‘This is... thorough,’ he said.

‘Mr Cafferty said that you’re to be Vice President Meyer’s... contact so you’ll need to know everything.’

Clearly Ben had used some other, probably more incendiary, word. Kent decided that he would rather not know what it was.

‘Are there files on _us_?’ Kent asked.

‘Just cabinet-members and other senior politicians,’ she said.

‘Ah. Good.’

It was a large file. Merely looking at it made him uneasy.

‘Is there an index?’ he asked.

‘Electronically. The whole thing is on the thumb drive there.’ She winked at him. ‘The password is SHIELD.’

Kent wondered what Selina would say if she found about the file. Something offensive and deeply unfair most probably.

Kent found the index and looked for his own name. Six mentions. Odd. Too much for someone who barely knew her. Not enough for someone who knew her for so long.

He would have to check each mention. He didn’t relish it.

***

‘…you don’t have a tenth of his charm,’ Selina sneered.

Kent sighed. ‘You used to find me charming enough.’

‘Oh, are we doing this?’ she asked. ‘Are we _finally_ gonna talk about the elephant in the room?’ She folded her arms. ‘It is gonna take a fucking _amazing_ apology.’

Kent took a moment to put the photographs into a pile. ‘I’m supposed to apologise?’

She looked genuinely infuriated. ‘Are you fucking _kidding_ me?

He held up his hands. ‘Can we, for a moment, assume that I’m honestly oblivious to what the issue is?’

‘What the issue is?’ she hissed. ‘You _abandoned_ me right when I needed you the most!’

Kent stared at her. ‘Abandoned you? What are you talking about?’

‘I went into that fucking place and you never came to visit me. Not even _once_!’

He licked his lips. ‘Do you… Do you mean after you lost the election and you went to the –’

‘The spa,’ she growled. ‘I went to the fucking spa.’

Kent put his hand on the table. ‘Selina, they wouldn’t let me in to see you. I came three times.’

A muscle in her cheek twitched. ‘You... you come to the spa?’

‘Three times. They said it was family only.’

She swallowed. ‘But... you could have left a note or something. You just fucked off!’

‘I wrote letters,’ Kent said. ‘They were a little circumspect, sure, but I was concerned Andrew might see them.’ He reached out to touch her forearm. ‘Selina –’

‘Don’t fucking touch me!’ She bellowed. ‘You don’t get to do that!’ She was shaking as she poked his shoulder. ‘I needed you and you weren’t there.’

‘It wasn’t my fault,’ he said quietly.

‘Andrew visited: that sentient sack of pus took the time,’ she hissed. ‘But not you.’

‘He was still your husband,’ Kent said. ‘On paper he was your family. I wasn’t.’

She gathered up the photographs and threw them at him. ‘Stay out of my fucking way.’

***

Kent had to be in the mood for Friday night drinks. The right frame of mind was, ironically, the wrong frame of mind. He only went after a particularly bad week.

‘Meyer’s taking the memes badly, huh?’ Ben asked.

‘She thinks everything is a personal attack,’ Kent said.

Doyle sat down on Ben’s couch. ‘That’s because she thinks you’re out to get her.’

‘Like she’s important enough to inspire a vendetta in Kent,’ Ben said.

Kent pulled a face. ‘I don’t understand them. They’re so time and effort consuming.’

‘Pretty though,’ Doyle said. ‘And sex is great.’

They looked at him.

‘I was talking about vendettas,’ Kent said.

‘Oh.’ Doyle pulled his ear. ‘I thought you meant women.’

‘She doesn’t think he’s out to get her because she’s a woman,’ Ben said. ‘She thinks he’s out to get her because she blames her incompetence on everyone else.’

Doyle chuckled. ‘That photograph of her on her cell was priceless.’

‘It was the only one where POTUS didn’t look jowly,’ Kent said.

‘He is jowly,’ Ben said.

‘Which is why it had to be that photograph. Angering Meyer was simply an unfortunate side effect,’ Kent said.

‘What was screaming not to touch her a side effect of?’ Furlong asked, wandering into the room.

‘What are you fucking going on about?’ Ben asked.

Furlong poured himself a drink. ‘You didn’t hear? Meyer stomped into a meeting Robodick here was having, threw everyone out, and slammed the door. Next thing everyone outside hears is her screaming not to touch her.’ Furlong drained his whiskey and poured another. ‘What did you do, Kent, grab her by the meme?’

Kent went cold. ‘Nothing of the sort.’

‘Jesus Christ, man,’ Doyle said. ‘It’s not the seventies. You can’t get away with that kind of thing any more. They kick up a hell of a stink.’

‘I did nothing of the sort,’ Kent insisted.

‘What _did_ you do?’ Ben asked. He was gripping his glass tightly.

Kent hesitated. ‘It was a gesture. I touched her arm. I’ve done the same to you.’

‘I’m not Selina Meyer,’ Ben snapped. ‘She’s fucking nuts. In and out of asylums!’

‘That is neither fair nor accurate,’ Kent protested.

Ben poked his shoulder. ‘She’s fucking trouble. She always was. Use your head! Don’t be alone with her and never, ever, touch her.’

***

‘You would think that discussing the issue and realising where miscommunication had led to faulty assumptions would clear the air,’ Kent said. ‘By no logic should it have made things worse.’

Ada regarded him with soulful brown eyes.

‘Thank you for listening.’ He kissed her on the top of the head. ‘I assume that you’re hungry.’

She followed him into the kitchen and sat by her bowl as he opened up a can of cat food. He dished the food and she immediately began eating. Kent scratched her back and stood up. He leaned back against the kitchen cabinet.

What had he thought was going to happen?He had no hope of rekindling his friendship with Selina. They were different people now. She was closed off. Bitter. He was probably the same. Or worse. God knew he struggled for companionship, even the platonic kind.

Kent sighed, and made himself a coffee.

His doorbell rang. Kent glanced at his watch. ‘Late for us visitors,’ he remarked. ‘Do you have a gentleman visiting?’

Ada glanced at him and then continued eating.

‘Concentrating on self-care,’ Kent said, heading for the door. ‘Very wise.’

The doorbell rang again. He groaned, and walked out of the kitchen, through the living room, and to the front door. He glanced at the security feed and frowned.

‘Madam Vice President, what are you doing here?’

She scowled at him. ‘Looking like your fucking stalker. Let me in already.’

Kent shook his head but let her into the house. A secret service agent came with her, but the others remained outside.

Kent led Selina into the kitchen.

‘Where’s Fibonacci?’ she asked.

‘He died.’

Her face fell. ‘Shit. Sorry. I know you loved that little weasel.’

He tried not to smile. ‘He was very poorly behaved.’

‘Tiny fucker stole food.’

‘Pushed over the garbage,’ Kent said.

‘Woke you up at three in the damn morning demanding cuddles.’

He looked at the counter. ‘I forgot about that,’ he said quietly.

‘What’s this one’s name?’ she asked.

‘Ada Lovelace.’ He sighed at Selina’s expression. ‘A mathematical genius. Arguably one of the pioneers of computing. She hasn’t always received her due.’

‘Because she was woman?’ Selina sniffed. ‘I hear that.’

Kent folded his arms. ‘Why are you here?’

‘Your manners haven’t improved,’ she grumbled. ‘Why are we in the fucking kitchen? Jesus. And you could offer me a drink.’

He stared at her. ‘Since I didn’t invite you and have no desire for you to stay, you’ll understand if I don’t.’

Selina rolled her eyes. ‘Fine, fucking pout like a child.’ She picked up his coffee and sipped it. ‘I spoke to Andrew, then I yelled at Andrew, and then Catherine came in and badgered me.’

Kent shrugged. ‘Is there a point, Ma’am?’

‘Don’t call me “ma’am”, asshole. You say it like it’s a fucking insult.’ She cradled the mug of coffee in her hands. ‘Andrew threw your letters away.’

Kent frowned. ‘I was circumspect. There was nothing suspicious in them.’

Selina snorted. ‘You wanted to visit, and you wrote letters. He’s a con-artist, a thief, and can’t keep his dick in his pants. But he’s not stupid.’

Kent pushed his fingers through his hair. ‘You told me you were essentially separated. Why would he do that?’

Selina gave him a dark look. ‘Because on paper he was my husband and he figured me being... there gave him free rein to siphon off my money. He didn’t want you muddying things. Thank fuck my mom set up the trust so he couldn’t get into it without mom’s lawyer.’

‘Oh.’ Kent shrugged. ‘Thank you for the update.’

Selina looked at him. ‘We could’ve been friends all this time if he hadn’t done that.’

‘We could have been friends if you had spoken to me,’ Kent said. ‘He didn’t make you sulk rather than ask. He didn’t make you petulant and abusive. That’s all on you.’

She cocked her head. ‘Who’s sulking and petulant now?’

He sighed. ‘You’re right. You felt abandoned. I felt attacked. We both allowed our hurt feelings to make us behave poorly.’

Selina sipped the coffee. ‘Are we gonna be able to get through this?’

‘I don’t know.’ He frowned, remembering something. ‘Catherine badgered you?’

‘Yeah, to come apologise,’ Selina admitted. ‘Apparently this is all my fucking fault for not saying anything.’

‘Catherine knows we were friends?’

She shrugged. ‘I was hurt. Really hurt. I told Catherine. Not my best idea.’ She looked at him. ‘I want to get through this.’ She licked her lips and looked away. ‘I want my friend back.’

***

President Hughes looked at them both. ‘Someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?’

‘About what?’ Selina asked casually.

Kent watched her. He was a lot more practised now, but he was still nowhere near as good a liar as she was.

Hughes looked at Kent. ‘I’ve got reporters asking Bill Calloway for comment on a rumour that my chief strategist groped my Vice President!’

‘What?’ Selina asked, laughing. ‘That’s fucking insane. Kent probably asks for written consent in triplicate before he kisses a girl.’

Kent frowned at her. ‘I’m not going to apologise for taking a woman’s autonomy seriously.’

‘Why is this rumour going around?’ Hughes demanded.

‘Ugh! We were having a... discussion and Kent touched my arm,’ Selina said.

‘You normally scream “don’t touch me” when someone touches you?’ Hughes asked acidly.

‘It was a heated discussion,’ Kent said.

‘Explosive apparently,’ Hughes snapped.

Selina put her hands on her hips. ‘Sometimes it seems that the West Wing is trying to sabotage me. That makes me cranky.’

‘Grow the fuck up,’ Hughes said. ‘Your paranoia is making the administration look bad.’

‘And ruining my reputation,’ Kent muttered.

‘Shut up,’ Hughes said. ‘What the hell were you doing touching her hand? Don’t touch women who’re yelling at you.’

Kent felt himself redden. ‘What do we do about this?’

‘You’re the strategist, ‘Selina said.

Kent thought about it. ‘I would suggest tackling it head on. Take it as a question. Explain. You could use it as a minor springboard to assert that women need to be willing to speak up loudly and men need to be willing to listen.’

Selina narrowed her eyes. ‘It’s not our job to keep men from assaulting us.’

‘No,’ he said meekly. ‘Apologies.’

‘Don’t start,’ Hughes said to Selina. ‘Can you manage that, turn it some rah-rah girl power thing?’

She flashed Kent an annoyed look and then looked back at Hughes.

‘I can do it. I’ll get Kent out of the soup,’ she said.

‘Try not to get him into it again,’ Hughes said.

***

Selina stared at the ceiling. ‘Are you mad?’

‘I’m not thrilled.’ Kent was picking up his clothes.

‘I had to tell him something.’ She rolled onto her side and looked at him. ‘What was I gonna say, Karen? Gary?’

‘Bill Ericsson,’ Kent said.

‘Oh,’ she said.’ Fuck. I didn’t think.’ She shrugged. ‘He’s a dick and everyone hates him. You’re a better choice.’

Kent looked at her. ‘I have no experience of running a campaign and if you are unsuccessful you will blame me.’

‘Better be great at it then,’ she said lightly. ‘You’ve got this. Come on. Quit worrying.’

He put his hand on his hip. ‘If you spoke to Amy –’

‘No. No, no, no. If she makes an abject, cringing apology then I’ll consider it. But not campaign manager. It wasn’t working out. You’ll do a much better job.’

‘Okay,’ he said.

‘Is that all you’ve got to say?’

He snorted. ‘What do you want, applause?’

‘I want gracious thanks for deigning to accept you,’ she said airily.

‘You asked me,’ Kent said. ‘I accepted you.’

‘Smart ass. Get back over here ASAP and fuck me again. I’ll send a car.’

***

Selina yawned as she straddled Kent. He touched the side of her face with his palm.

‘If you’re too tired –’

‘I’m the perfect amount of tired,’ she said. ‘If _you_ can’t keep up...’

He chuckled. ‘I can keep up.’

She leaned down to kiss him. His other hand was on her waist. It fit there quite naturally. Smooth against her body. If he put his hand on the other side that would fit too. As small as she was, as tall as he was, they fitted together. As sharp, impatient, and selfish she was, and as cool, awkward, and socially uncomfortable he was, they fit together.

Selina took him inside her. She closed her eyes and moved his hands to her breasts.

‘Don’t fall asleep on me,’ she muttered.

‘I’ve never done that,’ he protested.

‘Whine, whine, whine.’

He caressed her breasts and leaned forward to kiss her neck. She was breathing heavily now. Kent felt his own breathing slip into synch with hers. She slid her arms around his neck. Her fingers wound into his hair. She bit his ear.

He growled. She laughed.

‘I know you like that,’ she said, the words distorted by her breathing.

‘Asking would be nice.’

‘Surprises are nicer.’

He pushed her, dumping her onto her back on the bed. She squealed.

‘Surprise!’ he said.

‘Asshole!’

She rolled onto her front and then crouched on all fours.

‘I hate doggy style,’ Kent grumbled.

‘Serves you right,’ she muttered, pushing back against him.

He slapped her butt with the palm of his hand.

‘Hey!’ she protested.

‘Serves you right,’ he said.

Afterwards, he was dozing off when she entwined her fingers with his.

‘You okay?’ Kent asked, eyes still closed.

‘Yeah.’

‘Upset about Charlie?’

She rolled over and lay her head on his chest.

‘Guess a little bit,’ she said.

Kent stroked her back. ‘You have the worst taste in men.’

‘I know,’ she said.

‘Just so completely awful.’

‘I get it.’

‘Those women who write to death row inmates think you have bad taste,’ he said.

‘Shut up or I’m gonna kick you in the nuts,’ Selina advised.

‘Okay.’

‘Good.’ There was a smile in her voice. ‘Go to fucking sleep.’

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Kent was in the bath. Ada climbed up on to the windowsill to keep watch and hopefully to not divebomb the bath. Again. That had been a traumatic experience for both of them.

It had been a long day. Every day work for Jonah was a long one. Kent needed to stay though, his mother’s health was too poor to risk moving to another insurance provider. So, Kent bit his tongue, kept his temper, and tried to soften the edges of Jonah idiocy. It had always been a losing battle, but Shawnee Tanz and her father had decided to weaponize Jonah’s particular brand of stupid. That would doubtless end badly. People never seemed to remember that throwing shit inevitably meant you had to pick shit up in the first place.

Something struck the bathroom window, sending Ada fleeing out of the room, paws scrabbling as she nearly overbalanced. Something else struck the widow. Something small but hard. It was too irregular for hail and far too heavy for rain.

Scowling, he got out of the bath and opened the bedroom window. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ he asked the dark shape, far below.

‘I didn’t know your number and you’re not answering the door!’ There was a pause. ‘Why are you naked?’

It was the context. Somewhere else, the White House, out at some event, and he would have recognised her voice. Here, bereft of context, he was utterly unsure.

‘Who is it?’ he asked.

‘Catherine,’ she said irritably. ‘Meyer! God, we’ve spoken loads of times. Will you put some clothes on?’

‘Not to bathe, no.’

It was dark outside, too dark for him to make out her features, but he saw her stamp her foot.

‘This is important, Kent!’

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘A moment.’

Although it was true that they had spent some time in conversation, it had always been related to work, or connected to her documentary. He hadn’t spent much time being interviewed. He didn’t enjoy it and he knew that he was no engaging storyteller. Nonetheless, he and Catherine interacted politely enough. He didn’t particularly dislike her, she was rather naïve and quite pretentious politically, but he found her generally well-meaning. She had never shown any particular feelings towards him, either positive or negative. He had thought her relationship with Marjorie had some oddly Oedipal overtones, or perhaps Electral, but their relationship seemed stable and healthy enough.

In short, he could think of no reason she would be visiting, other than to tell him that there was a problem with Selina. He prayed he was wrong.

***

Catherine took hold of Marjorie’s hand before she spoke.

Kent swallowed bile.

‘My mom is in a... facility,’ Catherine said.

‘Psychiatric,’ Marjorie said.

‘We’re trying to keep it quiet,’ Catherine said.

‘Although addressing it openly might help de-stigmatise depression and mental ill health.’

It was difficult to tell with Marjorie, who seemed incapable of changing expression, but he thought she was annoyed, or worse.

‘It wouldn’t help her,’ Catherine said. ‘She’d probably kill herself if everyone found out.’

Kent winced. ‘Is she in a bad way? How bad is it?’

‘Very bad,’ Catherine said. She was watching him. ‘I know you were close and that when you didn’t visit her last time...’ She licked her lips. ‘She took it so badly.’

‘I wasn’t allowed in,’ Kent protested.

‘You’re on the list this time,’ Marjorie said.

‘We had your name added,’ Catherine said. ‘You’re welcome to visit her.’

‘If you want,’ Marjorie said. ‘It’s very distressing to see her there like that.’

Kent nodded. ‘Do you have the address?’

***

Jonah’s office was so small that when Selina and the secret service arrived they filled the room.

‘Oh God, what now?’ Jonah asked, standing up.

‘Not you, balls for brains,’ Selina said. ‘I wanna talk to Kent.’

Kent and Ben were sat on the couch. Ben leaned over to him. ‘Take me with you.’

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Kent said.

‘Don’t you have somewhere we can talk?’ Selina demanded.

‘This is it,’ Jonah said squirming. ‘There’s not a lot of room.’

Selina raised an eyebrow. ‘Then fuck off and let us talk.’

‘Um, this is my office?’

Ben grabbed Jonah’s arm. ‘Never stop a woman from having “a talk” with a guy. It’s like messing with a fucking tiger.’

‘Roar!’ Selina smirked when Jonah skittered nervously out of the room.

‘Did you come all this way to do that?’ Kent asked, standing up as she shut the door to the office.

‘Nah, that was an added bonus.’ She leaned back against Jonah’s desk. ‘I’ve been working on my autobiography.’

‘Okay,’ he said, moving closer. ‘Am I mentioned?’

‘Couple times. You were my campaign manager.’

He pursed his lips. ‘I lost you the election.’

She pulled a face. ‘You know I never meant that.’

‘If you say so,’ he said.

Selina flicked his tie. ‘Look, I was thinking about whether I should put in the whole “fucked Tom James on a couch” deal, and Mike got the wrong end of the stick. He said they all knew you and I were doing it.’

Kent cocked his head. ‘Really? Or was that a wild shot in the dark?’

She waved her hand. ‘I don’t know, whatever, it doesn’t matter.’

‘Then why did you mention it?’ Kent asked.

‘Because it got me thinking.’ She looked away. ‘Would it be so terrible if people knew that we fucked occasionally?’

Kent touched her hair. ‘It was never a problem to me.’

Selina half-heartedly slapped his hand. ‘Would it be terrible for me?’

He shrugged. ‘Right now? No. You don’t have to worry about voters or newspapers or anything like that.’ He inclined his head. ‘If you had some crazy idea about running again then perhaps.’

‘Would it be crazy?’ she asked coquettishly.

‘Yes,’ he said. He gave her a small smile. ‘Nonetheless, I would support you.’

Selina kissed him, softly. ‘You’ve always supported me.’

‘Careful, you’re perilously close to sentimentality,’ he said quietly.

‘Shut the fuck up,’ she said. ‘And work out how I can be honest about fucking you and run again.’

‘Yes Ma’am.’


End file.
